


Balancing on the High Wire

by GoddessofBirth



Series: Tag You're It [8]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek's POV, Episode Tag, Family, M/M, Pack Dynamics, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-21
Updated: 2012-07-21
Packaged: 2017-11-10 10:23:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/465226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoddessofBirth/pseuds/GoddessofBirth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He has made many, many mistakes, and there are some he doesn't know if he'll be able to fix, or if the best he can do is try to mitigate the consequences as much as possible as he fights to keep his fragile new family from being picked off one by one, or mutinying when they realize how little he actually knows.</p>
<p>Episode Tag to 2 x 08, <i>Raving</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Balancing on the High Wire

It's six in the morning before Scott has recovered enough for Derek to help him back home, to get him tucked into bed with the covers pulled up around his neck. This part is familiar. This part is family. This is the thing that has only just started to sink through his power addled brain in the last few days. He has been so concentrated on building a power base, on creating a pack for strength and protection, that he almost forgets an Alpha is only as strong as the loyalty that binds the wolves underneath his control to him.

 

He has made many, many mistakes, and there are some he doesn't know if he'll be able to fix, or if the best he can do is try to mitigate the consequences as much as possible as he fights to keep his fragile new family from being picked off one by one, or mutinying when they realize how little he actually knows.

 

He trudges sluggishly down the sidewalk, trying to look as non-threatening as possible to the handful of cars that pass him, trying to look like anything but a killer, a werewolf, a barely adult who is quickly realizing how far in he is over his head. He hasn't slept in the last forty-eight hours; his eyes are gritty and sticky and his mouth still tastes of blood, but he doesn't go straight to the train yard, instead taking a few minutes to climb up to Erica's window, and then Boyd's, make sure they're asleep and well.

 

He doesn't know _how_ he'd known Stiles would get his betas home, how he knows Stiles made sure Boyd found the powdered wolfsbane and treated his wounds; it doesn't even occur to him to question that he trusted Stiles to keep the pack safe while he dealt with Scott. There's instinct in every wolf, and now that he's learning not to get it confused with pride, he trusts it more than he trusts his human senses.

 

Stiles' jeep is parked in the train yard, and when he finally stumbles down the steps of the abandoned station – after taking a few precious minutes to assure himself Boyd didn't wreck or otherwise damage his baby – he can immediately smell Stiles' presence smeared all over the dim interior, could probably trace every place he's walked if he felt so inclined. He finds him in the the same car they used as an impromptu operating room for Erica, finds Stiles with his head resting against a padded seat, mouth wide open and snoring, Isaac curled up across his legs.

 

The spike of angry, almost-but-not-quite-jealously hits him hard, and he's not even sure who it's directed at: Stiles, for stepping in and taking care of Isaac when it should be his Alpha's job – although Derek is learning to be honest enough to admit that both Stiles and Scott seem better equipped to dole out the kind of leadership Isaac responds best to – or Isaac, for having the ability to so openly accept the comfort Stiles offers to those around him, without even realizing. It's the same mix of emotions he feels when Erica, broken and bleeding and maybe dying, looks up at Stiles – the boy she's beaten up and bruised since the day she was turned – for emotional support, rather than turn to Derek for help. He can physically train them, he can break their arms and drain their wounds and keep their bodies alive, but his betas have long since stopped looking to him for anything else.

 

On the one hand, it makes him want to grab Stiles by the arm, throw this interloper  _out_ , this boy who has dared to become a person his pack looks to, this challenger to his ultimate authority as Alpha. On the other hand, it pushes him to bind him even closer to the pack than he already is, because an Alpha is never successful on his own. Boyd is quickly proving himself as a capable right hand, someone he can trust to keep his head in a fight, while Scott can always be counted on to attempt to reign Derek in when he's listening too much to the wolf and not his humanity. Stiles though...

 

Derek knows Stiles doesn't realize it yet, still considers himself as little more than Scott's friend, who has somehow wound up helping all the other werewolves in town by association, knows Stiles still doesn't understand that just because he's human doesn't mean he isn't one of their own. He either doesn't know, or is willfully ignoring that humans have always stood with wolves in all the most successful packs. Once he accepts his place within the pack, the part of Derek that sees him as a challenge will settle, just like his desire to maim Scott disappears – beyond what he considers a completely normal desire to smack him for just being an idiot – when he submits to Derek's authority.

 

And that third part of Derek? That teeny, tiny piece that looks at Stiles in an entirely different way? Derek has so far found little difficulty in shutting it down under the weight of bigger considerations, bigger events, bigger catastrophes; he'll continue to do so no matter what the outcome of this current battle between his pack, the Argents and the kanima. Derek has learned the tightrope walk of self preservation over and again through the years, and now it's so well ingrained that he has to fight to do anything different.

 

Hence his initial difficulties in understanding he owes his pack just as much as they owe him.

 

He kneels beside Stiles and smacks him softly on the back of his head.

 

“What the - !” Stiles jerks awake, which in turn causes Isaac to scramble to his feet. Within seconds, the blurry eyed, soft look on Isaac's face vanishes, replaced with his usual smug look of condescension, as he leans against a pole.

 

Derek hopes one day he can unteach him that particular trick, help him feel comfortable enough to lose that mask, but since that would mean Derek would have to learn how to do it first, it's likely a long way off. He nods to his beta before returning his attention to Stiles.

 

“I'm back. Scott's fine. He's at home. You can go now.”

 

“Yeah, great, thanks. You'll have to wait for me to get some feeling back in my legs before you kick me out, though.” He glares at Isaac, but there's no heat in it, more the same exasperated look he gives to Scott. Isaac curls his lip in return, but there's no anger in it, either.

 

“I'm not kicking you -” Why is it that Stiles always takes what Derek says in the worst possible way? Does he intentionally twist Derek's words? He sighs and runs a hand over his face. “Do you really want to keep sleeping on a bus seat?”

 

“No, not particularly. But you -” Stiles appraises him, “- you look like you could use some sleep. Here.” He pulls himself up and gestures to the nest of blankets and pillows. “Do you want me to stay and keep the fort down while you pass out?” Isaac is watching his claws flick in and out – it's not as inane an activity as it might look to outsiders; it's a simple exercise to practice control – so he misses the glance Stiles throws his way before looking meaningfully back at Derek, and Derek wonders exactly how bad of a freak out Isaac had last night, that Stiles is worried to leave him alone. He'll need to ask Stiles about it, but not now, not where Isaac can hear.

 

He listens to Isaac's heart rate, takes in his scent and his stance before finally shaking his head. “We're fine here. Erica will show up sooner or later. And I actually have a bed, you know.”

 

“ _Really_?” 

 

Derek rolls his eyes and doesn't bother explaining further. Talking with Stiles is strangely exhausting at times.

 

“Okay...so...yeah. I'm gonna....you know, go. Check on Scott, probably; hope my dad believed another stupid lie.” Something's off there, the smell of tears and sadness at the mention of his father. It's yet another thing Derek should probably check on, but also probably won't. He pinches his nose as Stiles continues to babble as he exits the train car, punching Isaac's shoulder as he goes and just laughing when Isaac growls in return.

 

At the last minute, Derek sticks his head out the door.

 

“Stiles.”

 

Stiles has his foot on the first step, but pauses to look back. “Hmm?”

 

“Thank you. For getting them home. We're having a pack meeting at two. Be here.”

 

“But -”

 

“ _Be here_.”

 

“Okay, okay. Jeez, like where else would I be? Just know I expect you to serve refreshments. I like those little hostess cupcakes, FYI.” The last bit floats back down as Stiles legs disappear from sight, so Derek allows himself a tiny smile.

 

It's a start, at least.


End file.
